After The Wind Has Stopped Blowing

Some days I believe that I'm in some kind of shock. I just
don't want to do anything.

I sit at my 'puter and play. I dabble at writing, I dabble
at some 'puter games, all this done in a desultory fashion
as if I just cannot be bothered.

All the while I'm actively NOT-eating and reminding
myself to breathe every time the tension gets too high.

I then play with my pet guinea pig and pet her for a while.

Soon I will get dressed and go for a walk. I know I'm
sick and supposed to be taking it easy and I spend
many hours sleeping because I'm not filled with energy
but I have to actively refrain from jumping on my own
back to flog the lazyness out of me. I know that this
is not the answer, but old patterns take habit-breaking
attention and effort. Breathe. Breathe. The major part
is that most days I feel like a victim of Katrina, I'm alive
but I wonder what next and bemoan the necessity of
putting myself back together again this far into the
process of getting older.

"One day a farmer came out of his storm-cellar to discover
the damage done by a tornado while he'd been hiding. He
looked around and saw the farmhouse torn up, the barn
knocked down, the pigsty destroyed and the corn torn up.
He looked with a smile to his wife and said, "Isn't it nice
now, Hon? I love it when the wind stops blowing."
~Anonymous~